


Past Misdeeds

by LuminousII



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creepy harry, Gen, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kinda?, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Master of Death Harry Potter, Minor Character Death, Seer Luna Lovegood, harry finally made a friend, i couldn't not include it, it's a mystery, minor Wolfstar, not super snape friendly, we've found a plot theydies and gentlethems, will harry have friends? unclear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:34:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25977526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuminousII/pseuds/LuminousII
Summary: Mini short stories featuring a really creepy harry that can see ghosts and isn't afraid to call people out on their bs or offer support to someone in need, regardless of house.
Comments: 38
Kudos: 379





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Some things in these short stories don't align with canon events or character motivations.   
> Harry Potter and all it's characters belong to J.K Rowling, and I make no claim to them.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore waits and watches. Harry Potter is the ultimate key to the victory of the Light, and he will make sure he is on the right path.

Hogwarts was alive with voices and sound, waiting for the newest batch of first years to arrive. Normally, many wouldn’t care very much, unless they had siblings being Sorted. This year, however, Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts. It would be the first time the general public had seen the boy in near 10 years. Many were quite excited, though for a vast number of reasons, and not all of them good. Some wanted to see the child and how he was doing, remembering his parents fondly. Others wanted to take advantage of him and his wealth and fame. Not only being the Boy-Who-Lived, but the last Potter? The boy had to be rolling in money! Then, of course, there were the remnants of the Dark Lord’s forces, eagerly anticipating the boy’s arrival and fall over the next several years. They would make sure of it.  
Finally, the first year’s entered and many craned their heads to find the wonder child, some more subtly than others. He was reported to look like his father, with only his mother’s eyes to differentiate him from his father at all. Yet no boy that matched that description was present among the first years. Some glanced at each other, seeming confused. Where was he? The Sorting began, and as more and more names were called, the crowd thinned and eventually the name was called.  
“Harry Potter!”  
A boy detached from the crowd of first years remaining, and started walking towards the chair and Sorting Hat. When the name was first called, many exclaimed in shock, though they all expected it. When the boy started moving, however, everyone fell silent. He was extremely thin and pale, with raven black hair and haunting green eyes. He was also very short, and barely seemed to move when walking. It was as if he was gliding towards his destination, with his eyes firmly fixed upon it, unmoving. It was unsettling, even for the Slytherins, who felt disturbed watching this boy that should only inspire hate.  
What seemed an eternity later, the boy sat down on the chair. He started out again, eyes unmoving and unblinking, until the Hat was placed over them. An anticipatory silence followed, everyone on edge, though most expected Gryffindor. When the silence continued for longer than 30 seconds, near silent murmuring began, and everyone was much more interested. Several people sat forward, waiting for the Hat to say a House. The wait continued for several minutes, until the Hat finally opened its brim and shouted,  
“RAVENCLAW!”  
For a moment, there was silence. Then, cheering came from the table with blue and bronze, and some disgruntled murmuring from the others. Some money swapped hands, and some faces sported different expressions of amusement, dissatisfaction, or indifference. Harry removed the hat from his head and started towards the end of his new house's table.  
Before he could even step off the slightly raised platform, however, Albus Dumbledore stood and loudly proclaimed, “Come my boy! We’ll just get you resorted into Gryffindor, where your parents were and would have wanted you to be!” Deathly silence followed his words, with many either confused or angry on Harry’s behalf. The Slytherins in particular were unimpressed with old man's meddling, despite the meddling being for Harry Potter of all people. Harry merely ignored him, and continued walking away, almost as if he didn't hear Dumbledore in the first place. Dumbledore had started trying to walk around the table to get to him, while still loudly proclaiming his need for a resort, when Harry stopped abruptly and slowly turned around. Unnoticed to all, several first years paled, including one with ginger hair, and another with silver eyes. Everyone else, however, sat forward, wondering what the young hero would say.  
After staring into Dumbledore’s eyes for a few seconds, Harry said with no inflection at all, “Your sister is crying again, Albus Dumbledore.”  
Everyone watched, shocked, as Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindelwald, unofficial Lord of the Light, and the only wizard Lord Voldemort ever feared, flinched and paled rapidly. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing but air came out. He stared at the boy in horror, and his distress was easily visible to all. Harry turned in place, and walked serenely towards his table, leaving behind an old man shaking in fear and the entire student body in shock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Implied bad/evil Albus Dumbledore, instead of misguided Albus Dumbledore.  
> I very much dislike and disagree with canon Albus Dumbledore and his plans. I recognize that in canon he was merely trying his best with limited information, and working with a war general mindset of sacrificing the one for the many, which I don't inherently disagree with. The way he went about it, however, I do disagree with.  
> Honestly, I find it easier from a story telling perspective to just make him evil and working behind the scenes, instead of writing the flawed character that he is. Plus, I think it makes it more interesting for Harry to have two enemies (Voldy and Dumbles) versus just working against Voldy.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus Snape watches Harry Potter with caution. His emotions spiral the longer he looks at his rival's son, forgetting all the while that he is also his lost love's son.

The students of Hogwarts were settling in after a few weeks so far in the new year, and yet everyone was still abuzz over what happened during the Sorting. Harry Potter making Headmaster Dumbledore speechless and visibly distraught with only a few words? The purebloods and their children were both impressed and infuriated. They’d been trying to shut the man and his sanctimonious ways up for years, and this 11 year old child comes right in and does so without any help or a hint to his plans? A child who, by all appearances, wasn’t even raised in a proper pureblood home and seems to be masquerading as a wraith half the time?  
Infuriating.  
Severus Snape had been content to watch the child from afar, and tread cautiously. Someone who can so visibly crack Dumbledore’s mask with so few words deserves at least a little bit of wariness. And where did he even get his information from? Not even Severus knew that Dumbledore had a sister, and he’d seen the man at both his best and worst over the years. Watching the child through the few weeks that he’s been at Hogwarts, he seems a model student. Unfailingly polite, studious, arrives on time, never disrupts classes.  
Another plus, at least in Severus’ books, is that he hardly ever talks. Listening to these prepubescent children prattle on about their utterly inconsequential affairs can drive one mad. Disappointingly, his Slytherins are hardly any better than the other riffraff, not even the upper years. Life will hit these children hard after they leave school, and Severus can’t find it within himself to care.  
His godson, Draco, is quite possibly the worst of the bunch, with alarming Gryffindor tendencies. Strangely enough, both he and the rest of the student body often leave Potter alone, and almost seem to fear him. While he agrees that the boy is rather… unsettling, he is merely a child, so very much like his father. It’s up to Severus then, to remind the boy of his shortcomings.  
The Potions class begins as normal. Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom are paired, as they usually are. They seem to have struck up some odd friendship, though Longbottom looks terrified of him half the time. Severus is unclear why, but he doesn’t particularly care. He stalks through the room, sneering at the fools that dare sully the art of potion making. He can already tell that many in this batch of students are hopeless. He approaches Longbottom and Potter, and stands over them. Longbottom starts shaking after a few seconds of this, and accidentally adds a few more valerian sprigs then necessary due to his nerves. Sneering, Severus vanishes the contents of their cauldrons before it can do more than bubble due to the added component.  
“10 points from Gryffindor, Longbottom, for wasting my time. Didn’t want to help your partner, did you, Potter? Wouldn’t be good enough for your image? 20 points from Ravenclaw.” Snape whirls away, prepared to observe, and likely vanish, a few more of these dunderhead’s attempts at potions, before a small voice stops him.  
“Your mother is disappointed in what you’ve become.”  
All sounds abruptly stop in the classroom, as Severus freezes, then slowly turns back towards the table. Potter’s shadowed and icy green eyes are staring at a spot just above his left shoulder. They are blank, almost as if the child is dead. They slowly move to meet his own, and seem to look through him.  
“As is my mother.”  
Potter turns back towards his table and starts writing on the parchment in front of him. Severus, meanwhile, feels his breath simultaneously leave him in a rush and freeze in his lungs. His heart feels like it was ripped right out of his chest, with old wounds resurfacing after spending so long buried under his occlumency shields. He stands there, frozen, like an utter buffoon, with his class watching on in terrified fascination.  
Before he loses all composure and shatters, he weakly croaks out, “Class dismissed.” Were it any other time, he would be reluctantly impressed with how fast the children scramble to leave the room. As it is, he can only watch as Harry Potter is the last to leave, not looking back at him even once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so now that I think about it there's actually so many people this could work for that it's kind of stunning. Not even just the bad either, like how much would Luna love to hear from her mother for instance? I digress.  
> This also popped into my head because I have feelings over canon Snape. I appreciate what the fandom has built him up into over the years, but canon Snape? Absolutely not.  
> If this does continue, (and it likely will, though probably not super frequently updated or anything) it will likely be snapshots of Harry at Hogwarts, with him obviously interacting with somebody and saying some one-liner mentioning a deceased person. I'm not sure if there'd be any continuity or overarching plotline to this, and to be honest, I don't know how I would make it work, but maybe something will occur to me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neville is lost, and has been for so very long. He wants, but isn't sure if he should have, he fears, but doesn't think he should.  
> More than anything, he just wants to belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuity? idk her
> 
> Warnings:  
> brief description of what could be considered the beginning of a panic attack  
> implied/referenced child abuse  
> character death (not neville, dont worry)

Neville Longbottom has been called many things over the years. A coward, a weakling, a squib, pathetic, and so much more. He’s not quite sure if he believes any of it, but he does know that he isn’t blind.  
Harry Potter is not what he expected, not what anybody expected. He moves through the halls like a ghost, almost never making sound. His face hardly moves when he talks, as infrequently as he does. His eyes are always staring forwards, and they’re almost always blank as well, no emotion to be seen.  
Something is wrong, but he has no idea what it is or how to fix it. All he knows is that he desperately wants to, because Harry is probably the only person that can somewhat relate to Neville's situation. His parents aren’t dead, but they may as well be, and he was shunted off to neglectful or outright abusive relatives. Oh, Harry hasn’t outright confirmed anything, but his behavior thus far and when he chooses to speak helps shed light on his life thus far.  
Not to mention, Harry is his godbrother, which only recently had his family informed him of, making him desperate to reach out and maybe make a friend. But he’s not sure if Harry’s ever had a friend in his life, and Neville’s alright with silence, he truly is, but Harry doesn’t talk a whole lot, and he can maybe see ghosts, because how else would he make those comments to the Headmaster and Professor Snape and-  
“Your family is proud of you, you know.”  
Neville startles, unaware that he was so deep in his thoughts so as to not see Harry approaching him. Harry was standing right in front of him, looking at him with his eerily bright green eyes, still no expression on his face. Honestly, Neville isn’t certain he can even make expressions. Then, what he said registers and Neville feels a burst of emotions. Concern, fear, disbelief… and a small bit of pride. Rather than comment on where that little tidbit of information came from, Neville asks for reassurance.  
“Are you sure? My family doesn’t like me very much…”  
Harry just continues to look at him, saying nothing for a few seconds before turning to look towards the Black Lake.  
“Yes. Your parents are especially proud of you and they wanted you to know that they love you.”  
Neville feels his heart stop, and idly wonders if he’s losing his mind. Swallowing a few times, he tries to work around the sudden lump in his throat.  
“M-my parents? Are t-they…”  
Harry turns back toward him, as blank as ever, but Neville can almost pretend he sees pity in his eyes.  
“No. Not yet. But I can still see them.”  
Harry turns and starts to walk away, and Neville lets him go, too shattered to even think of following. He feels tears start to pool in his eyes and drip down onto his cheeks, and he’s shaking, and he can’t make it stop, he must make it stop or else he be punished, and he-  
“Neville.”  
Neville gasps in some air and stops shaking and rubs the tears off his face. He collects himself before looking back towards Harry, who had stopped and turned to look at him again. He’s not sure what he sees in Harry’s eyes this time, but there’s definitely something there, and he wonders.  
“You’re the bravest person I’ve ever known.”  
Neville merely stares, and Harry walks away and out of sight. Neville wants to laugh, wants to cry, wants to scream-  
Instead he places those words next to faded memories of his parents, of herbology, of the little voice in his head that always insisted that his family was wrong. If Harry believes in him, why shouldn’t he?  
He picks himself up, and follows Harry into the castle, more at ease now than he’s felt in years.

Frank and Alice Longbottom pass away minutes later, with content smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Neville deserved so much better!  
> I have feelings about a lot of the families in Harry Potter. Is it just me, or are like 25% straight up abusive? and then another like 50% are enforcing unrealistic expectations on their children?   
> Also,  
> canon? what canon?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius has spent ten years in Azkaban, and then he's released, and he's perfectly fine until he suddenly isn't.  
> Good thing Harry is there to put all the pieces together (after ripping them apart first).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that this is basically a series of one-shots that are loosely connected in the sense that I may reference events in a previous chapter, but that they will almost definitely have no overarching plot or really any cohesiveness whatsoever.
> 
> Also I finally figured out formatting (why yes that is a lot of italics)
> 
> Also also canon? idk her
> 
> Chapter warnings:  
> Some Dumbledore bashing  
> unhealthy coping mechanisms  
> more hints of panic attack  
> harry being harry

Sirius was confused.

He’d been in Azkaban for so long that he’s surprised he’s not a shell of himself. Sure, he’s not at 100 percent, but nobody enters Azkaban and leaves totally fine, so he figures he did pretty well for himself. His animagus form definitely helped, since the soul sucking, despair inducing _things_ , that the Minister likes to think he controls, don’t tend to recognize animals as worth it when they have a much better food supply in the other prisoners.

What was he thinking about?

Oh yes, his confusion. About how he’s now out of Azkaban. He got a trial and everything, and he’d be more gleeful at the faces of everyone in the Wizengamot becoming pasty white and supremely uncomfortable if it weren’t at his expense of being wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban for 10 years.

He’d been mostly out of it at the trial, actually, since he came straight from Azkaban. It wasn’t until much later that he actually thought about the circumstances and came to several important conclusions.

First, Dumbledore wasn’t at his trial. Now, were this immediately after he was thrown in Azkaban, this would have thrown him for a loop. But he's had ample opportunity to think over the past ten years, and realized rather belatedly that Dumbledore never really liked him. Sure, he could play the part well, and Dumbledore rather obviously favored Gryffindors.

But.

But his last name was Black and that was something Dumbledore would never forget or forgive him for. Despite his rather foolish way of going about rebellion, he _had_ rebelled against everything his family was and stood for, yet that obviously meant nothing when he had been left to rot in prison for a crime that he was innocent of, _which Dumbledore knew._

Second, someone must have pushed for a trial. After ten years of being in prison, it was highly unlikely that someone finally thought to give Sirius Black a trial. Someone even finding evidence that suggested he was innocent would have been swept under the rug by Dumbledore, the Ministry, both, or some other party. Meaning whoever it was, and there was a rather small pool of people it could be, had some serious sway and a desire to see him free.

Which led him to his last point.

Nobody would tell him anything about his godson. Oh sure, there was the general information, like he was sorted into Ravenclaw, and that he was pretty studious (he was sorted into Ravenclaw and was the son of Lily, of course he was studious), but nothing substantial. It was almost as if people were afraid to talk about him. As soon as Sirius was able, he started writing letters to Harry, hoping that he could have a place in his life in some form, _any_ form. He needed information to make plans, like whether or not he was taking custody of Harry, and what enemies he potentially had to deal with, and how to keep them both safe, and-

Harry wrote back constantly, filling his letters with little tidbits about himself and Sirius clung to every word shared. He counted down the days until he was released, until he could finally see Harry again.

That day finally came over Yule Break. Sirius was finally free, but on a strict potions regime and saw a mind healer four times a week, but he was doing better. More importantly, he was finally going to see Harry again.

He was waiting near the front steps of Gringotts, under the watchful gaze of the goblin guards. He was looking out in the alley a bit wistfully, trying to catalogue all the differences that ten years had wrought, when he felt a small hand touch his own. Startled, he looked down at black hair and glassy green eyes. Sirius immediately recognized Harry, even after ten years, and smiled while crouching to look him in the eye at an even level.

“Hello, pup. Do you remember me?” Sirius tried to keep the hopeful note out of his voice. It’s not like it would be Harry’s fault if he couldn’t, as he would have been a little older than one year old when he last saw Sirius. To Sirius’ surprise, however, Harry nodded. Sirius tilted his head in a wordless gesture, and Harry responded while staring straight into his eyes.

“You’re Padfoot. Mum and Dad told me you were innocent and that you should be free. So I helped.”

Sirius nodded along, then stopped, then carefully considered his godson in front of him. Before he could say anything, however, Harry continued.

“Your brother wants you to know that he’s sorry too. He wished he had more time.”

Harry almost sounded sad, though Sirius couldn’t say for who. Sirius was too busy battling confusion, shock, horror, and anguish to think through much.

“He forgives you though.”

Sirius willed his eyes open (when had they closed?) to see Harry looking at him with his dead eyes and _sees_ -

James with his characteristic spark of mischief in his eye, loyalty in his very _bones_ -

Lily with her fiery temper but caring demeanor, exasperation and amusement so _clear_ -

Regulus with a sly smirk, and he just wishes that he could say _he's sorry_ -

And it's so _cold_ , and he can’t feel his body, _and he can’t breathe_ -

Harry’s touch grounds him in reality as he squeezes his hand tightly. Sirius greedily draws in air, shoving everything away except for the precious child in front of him.

He can ( _will_ ) break down later, but right now, he wants to ask Harry some questions, and hopefully adopt him so they can be a family this time.

But first…

“Thank you, kiddo.” And Sirius almost thinks he can see a small hint of a smile on Harry’s face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I find the canon portrayal of Sirius kind of unrealistic. Maybe it's just me projecting or something, but ok yes. We get it that he was immature and a bit of an asshole with emotional management problems in the wizarding equivalent of middle/high school. Great. I also understand that Azkaban generally leaves its prisoners in an extremely poor mental state to say the least.  
> What I don't understand, is why he's exactly the same after ten years spent there. Sure he's a bit more unhinged (which is understandable), but he still is basically the same person. I'm not asking him to completely change as a person, but I think most people on the planet would change in a pretty major way if they had to live through their worst memories and generally feeling despair for 11 years in a prison for a crime they didn't commit.  
> I think a more realistic "take" for this would be Sirius hyperfocusing on Harry, especially if he realizes how shit Harry's life has been up to this point, because he's the one that left Harry to be put into that position.
> 
> But I digress.
> 
> I appreciate all your comments and kudos!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus finally meets Harry.

Remus was… well, not alright, but doing better at least.

For the last decade, he’d been trying to survive after  _ that night _ , wallowing in guilt and self-loathing. He should have done more, tried  _ harder _ . All of them should have sat down and talked to each other, and then maybe  _ it  _ wouldn’t have happened.

Then again, they still trusted Peter at that point, so who knows?

He wanted to say he never believed Sirius guilty but that is a  _ lie _ , and he will always feel guilty over instantly believing him  _ capable _ of such a thing.

But Sirius approached him yesterday and they cried and shouted and made up, and now Sirius was telling him about little Harry.

“He’s… different than what I was expecting, what everyone was expecting.” Sirius said. Something in his eyes was heavy and dark. “But Remus… don’t abandon him, no matter what he does, what he  _ says _ . He only wants to help.”

Remus was startled, to say the least. Sure there had been plenty about Harry in the papers, but he always dismissed it as irrelevant, since they often spread gossip anyway. But Sirius makes it sound like there’s a problem with Harry, and that’s _unacceptable_. Remus would support Harry no matter what, he’s basically all he,  _ they _ , have left, so why would Sirius-

Remus is a jittery, panicking mess when he comes through the floo to meet Harry for the first time in over a decade. Instantly, his nose picks up an interesting scent. It smells like Harry, at least from what he remembers, but it’s also different.

It’s almost like he has two different scents, but that’s-

Then he hears Harry and then he’s rounding the corner and standing in the shadows of the hallway.

Harry looks at him, and Remus notices that his eyes are blank and almost glowing. He stands very still and stares at Remus and it’s-

It’s unnerving, and he wants to ask what’s wrong, or maybe introduce himself, since he’s not sure if Harry even knows who he is, since Sirius might not have told him anything, so he-

“It’s okay, you know. My parents don’t blame you.”

And Remus feels like he’s just been punched in the gut and his breath leaves him in a rush as realization sweeps through his brain.

Different, Sirius said.

Don’t leave, Sirius said.

Help us, Sirius didn’t say but implied.

So Remus does.

“Thank you, Harry. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

Harry looks at him for a few moments before something changes slightly, something in the air.

“I think I might.”

And that-

Remus turns slightly to look at Sirius who came through the floo right behind him, but has stood aside and watched him interact with Harry. They look into each other’s eyes and reach an understanding.

Remus doesn’t know what Harry’s life was like before this point. But he promises that from this point forward, it will be _better_.

He and Sirius wouldn’t have it any other way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew sorry for the longish absence. I knew I wanted to do Remus next but then real life happened, and I wasn't sure how I actually wanted to write it but then I just sat down and wrote other things and the ideas came through so here we are.  
> Also my stupid ass is all like "these are disconnected guys", and then writes five in a row that actually are connected? gurl anyway. I want to write Luna next, so that's what's gonna happen, and it will likely not connect to the first five? or maybe I'll just treat it like a massive time skip, who knows.  
> Also I made a list of people I could write for, and some of them are super obvious, but others I'm drawing a blank on. People like Hermione haven't really known anyone that died (according to canon), so like? Do I make up people or just ignore them? idk throw ideas at me.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luna is different. She can see, while others cannot.  
> It has not endeared her to others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, here is Luna!

Luna skipped towards the Sorting Hat, only half paying attention to what was going on around her. She could practically feel the derision and contempt radiating off her peers, but she didn’t mind. Many of them would dislike her regardless of what she did or said.

Besides, she was much too busy  _ seeing _ .

So many things that were obvious that the others missed. It’s not her fault they couldn’t see them. Her daddy tried to understand, and she loved him for it, but she could tell he was only pretending. Or maybe he had just lost himself to grief after her mother passed. She couldn’t really tell.

She focused again when she felt the Sorting Hat placed on her head.

“My, you’re quite the odd one, aren’t you, Miss Lovegood?”

Luna smiled.

“I think I’m rather normal, actually. It’s everyone else that’s odd. They have too many wrackspurts and nargles flying around them to be alright.”

She could feel the Hat laugh in her mind.

“Normally, my dear, I would send you on your way with a warning about those in your destined house. Instead, I send you off with a promise. Find the child of Death and you will never be alone again.”

Luna’s mind swirled with thoughts and emotions, and she couldn’t have prevented the lonely and sad thought from surfacing if she’d tried.

“Do you promise?”

The Hat took mock offense.

“Do I seem like a liar to you? Now off with you, to RAVENCLAW!”

The last part said aloud for the entire hall to hear. The clapping for her Sorting was lackluster at best, but Luna didn’t care. She would finally have a friend, and one that  _ understood _ . For her entire life, she had to hide what and who she was, even from her parents. The closest she had ever been to anyone was with her mother, and she  _ saw _ what would happen, but...

Luna couldn’t prevent her from dying.

She felt so  _ alone _ . Even before her mother died.

She sat with the rest of her House, ignoring the looks thrown her way from those sitting next to her. She listened to what the wind was saying, and giggled lightly in response to its jokes. It was only trying to make her happy, after all.

“Merlin, why did we have to get Loony? How did she make it into Ravenclaw anyway?”

The questions rebounded around the table, almost being hissed in an effort to keep quiet and prevent Flitwick from deducting house points. Luna felt her smile becoming more fake by the second. She hadn’t cried since… well,  _ since, _ and she would  _ not _ start crying here in public, with everyone here being so willfully blind, and-

“Stop.”

All conversations abruptly ceased, and not just at the Ravenclaw table. The Great Hall was eerily silent as everyone stared at the source of the voice. Luna looked up after gaining control of herself, and stared into death’s eyes.

And  _ saw _ -

Luna smiled.

His eyes lightened a brief amount in what looked like amusement, and he sat down right next to her, uncaring that he was sitting among first years. Conversations slowly started once more, but everyone kept a wary eye on the two little Ravenclaws.

Almost as if they were  _ dangerous _ .

As if they  _ needed watching _ .

Luna kept smiling.

Later, they are sitting in the common room, both looking into the fire. It crackles and swirls, and the rest of the Ravenclaws watch on and pretend they aren’t.

“Your mother is sorry, you know. That she didn’t  _ see _ .” Luna makes a sound, and is about to reply, when he continues.

“She also wants you to stop blaming yourself.”

Luna blinks.

Thinks for a moment.

_ Lets go _ .

She hums and continues to stare into the fire.

“The things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end. If not always in the way we expect.”

She thinks she sees his lips quirk up a bit in the corner of her eye.

She turns to him.   
“Would you like to be friends, Harry Potter?”

He turns toward her, and the fire is reflected in his eyes.

His eyes seem so very alive.

“I’d like that, Luna Lovegood.”

She smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, Luna is my favorite character, but she's so hard to write well. Hopefully I did a decent job, but kind of unclear what's going on in canon itself so who can say.  
> Also can maybe be viewed as pre-relationship? If I ever pair Harry with a girl, it would be Luna tbh.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort, through Quirrell, has been watching and waiting all year.  
> And not just for the Philosopher's Stone...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops? My bad.  
> I guess this story will be out of order, lmao.  
> This obviously happened before the last chapter, since Luna is sorted second year and these events happen end of the first.

Voldemort, through Quirrell, snarled.

_ Nothing _ this year has gone correctly.

It had taken him, them, all year to work out where the stone was and what protection surrounded it without arousing suspicion.

He thought this would be so much simpler, but between the ever watchful eyes of Dumbledore and Quirrell’s incompetence, it had taken much too long. He hadn’t even had time to prepare anything else for reclaiming a physical body.

He also thought he would be able to eliminate the Potter brat no problem.

I mean, it was  _ him _ , the dark lord, versus a measly first year student.

_ No problem _ .

Except, apparently, it was.

The brat didn’t appear to have any friends, but he was  _ never alone _ .

And that’s when they could even find him in the first place.   
Potter had a distinctly annoying habit of just  _ vanishing _ from places, making it that much harder to track him down.

He’d even, at one point, broken into the Ravenclaw dorms during the night.

_ And he wasn’t even there. _

Was the fool sleeping on the  _ floor _ somewhere?

But it didn’t matter. The child would meet his end eventually, Voldemort wouldn’t allow his continued existence.

The more important thing, at this moment, was the stone.

Why Dumbledore decided to move it into Hogwarts in the first place, and put these rather laughable protections to defend it was beyond him. The so called protections were not what he was concerned with, but rather the  _ wards. _

He couldn’t apparate out of the castle, so he would have to return the way he came. Once he had the stone, he would have to traverse through much more  _ difficult _ obstacles to get away. Subterfuge was practically useless at that point, since Dumbledore would almost certainly guess it was him, if not just  _ know _ . Normally, Voldemort would have no problem just blasting through the wards with his substantial power. But something was wrong, likely Quirrell’s body was just too weak after sustaining him for so long.

But first he had to actually get the stone.

Which is why he was standing in front of a mirror, pacing and snarling, while Quirrell cowered in fear in a corner of their shared mind.

He didn’t  _ understand! _ Where was the stone? Why was this mirror here? Was the stone in the mirror?

_ How did he get it? _

Suddenly, he heard footsteps from behind him. Whirling with a sneer already on his lips, assuming it was Dumbledore, he was instead surprised.

Harry Potter had arrived.

Voldemort almost laughed in malicious amusement. His enemy practically delivered himself right into his hands.

The-Boy-Who-Lived would  _ die tonight. _

Then another idea struck him.

Yes, Voldemort was truly a genius.

“Well, child? Get over here.” Wand tip glowing an ominous green, Voldemort guided Harry to stand in front of the mirror. “What do you see?”

The child did not respond, merely continued to look in the mirror. Voldemort felt his patience fray dangerously.

_ “What do you-” _

Voldemort was interrupted by the child’s response.

“I see nothing.”

Voldemort paid no attention to what that could possibly mean, nor to the anxious warnings coming from Quirrell in the back of their mind. Who did this foolish child think he was?

He would not be made a fool by some 11 year old boy!

“Avada Kedavra!”

The green light shot forth from his wand, and struck the boy on his left shoulder. Smirking, Voldemort turned back towards the mirror. Then swiftly turned back to the boy in shock.

_ He was still standing. _

The boy slowly turned to look at him, and Voldemort felt the first tendrils of fear in a very long time.

He tried again.

The green light once again hit him, this time directly in the center of the chest. Now that Voldemort was actively watching, he could see the green light dance around his body a bit, seeming to arch in and out along it, before disappearing into his body altogether.

_ And the boy was still standing. _

“H-how are you-”

“The dead are waiting, Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr.”

Voldemort sucked in a panicked breath. How did he  _ know that name? _

_ “And they aren’t happy.” _

Suddenly it felt like his body,  _ Quirrell’s body _ , was falling. All he could see was the boy standing in front of him.   
“In the name of James and Lily Potter, I banish this piece of your soul from the land of the living.”

Voldemort rapidly lost what little composure he had.  _ Piece _ of his soul?! How?! How could this mere child have known about…!

Suddenly, he felt two pairs of hands grip him by his shoulders. Startled, he looked up.

And stared into the faces of James and Lily Potter.

As they dragged him backwards, he tried to open his mouth to say something, to  _ scream _ , but it was too late.

Voldemort, and Quirrell with him, were gone.

The next day, the Flamels found a red stone sitting on top of their dining room table, along with a short note.

It read:

_ Just returning some stolen property. _

_ If I were you, I would not trust meddling old headmasters anymore. _

_ Regards _

_ A friend _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No joke, I wrote this section because I wanted to write Harry getting hit by a killing curse. And then, well...  
> A wild plot appeared!  
> Also I wanted to write a confrontation with Quirrellmort, so I did.  
> And then it grew and it randomly sprouted a plot line.  
> So here we are!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lockhart was used to fame and adoration.  
> So why were so many people preoccupied with this child, The-Boy-Who-Lived?

Professor Lockhart, current Defense of the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award.

Yes, he  _ quite _ liked the sound of that.

More titles would come in time, of course, because he was Gilderoy Lockhart, wizard extraordinaire. He had many noteworthy talents, his magic was awe inspiring, he was extremely handsome, and-

He was being ignored by his class.

“Now this just won’t do at all!” he playfully pouted at his class. Several of the girls swooned, while nearly everyone else did something funny with their expressions. It almost looked like they were trying to cover sneers, but that couldn’t be.

They wouldn’t be sneering at him, and what else was there here to make expressions at?

Harry Potter, however, had as blank of a face as ever, and didn’t even look up from his reading.

“Mr. Potter? Would you care to come to the front of the class?” Lockhart ignored the students looking at him in shock and something close to pity. Slowly, the boy raised his head and looked right into his eyes.

“No, Professor, I wouldn’t.” Several people snorted in suppressed amusement, while Lockhart tried to stamp down on the burst of irritation. How dare this brat? Thinking himself more famous than he, Gilderoy Lockhart!

“Come now, Mr. Potter! I require you at the front of the class!” A hush fell over the room as the boy slowly stood and made his way to the front, standing beside him. Lockhart smiled in poorly concealed triumph. “Now, Mr. Potter, we are going to reenact one of the scenes from my many adventures. I’m sure you’re familiar with my book  _ Year with the Yeti _ , yes?” Harry merely stared at him and said nothing. The class shifted a bit, though Lockhart couldn’t tell if it was anticipation or nervousness.

“Wonderful!” Lockhart continued, tired of waiting for a response. “How about the scene from page 54? I think that would be a splendid way to-”

“Did you know, Professor,” Harry said in a perfectly bland and even tone. The students shifted forward, seeming to anticipate the words coming from the boy. “That memory charms fade after death?”

The room became still. Everything stopped moving, including the paintings and the students. Lockhart chuckled nervously. “I’m not sure what you mean, child.” Lockhart readied his wand to cast an obliviate on the whole room, uncaring of the consequences. Harry merely continued to stare at him.

“Yes you do.”

Merlin, his eyes, they were-

“Obliviate!” Lockhart yelped out, suddenly very afraid. The white light shone from his wand tip before being sucked back into his wand and then it touched his hand and…

Who… what was his name, again?

Sirius and Remus looked over the edge of the paper to stare at Harry. The child merely sat there, serenely sipping tea and reading a book. They glanced at each other, and shrugged. The man was probably a danger to children anyway, what with him trying to obliviate a whole classroom. Who knows what else he could have done?

_ Lockhart committed to St. Mungo’s after losing entire memory! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too sure with this, but hey, we're in second year so it should probably happen.  
> The scene that inspired this, was, of course, Lockhart trying to obliviate this Harry. Not a wise plan.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time is ticking for young Draco Malfoy.  
> He just doesn't know it yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting twice in one day? Wow.

Draco Malfoy was… concerned. He knew his father had planned for something to happen this year at Hogwarts, not that his father knew he knew. The wonders of sneaking around the manor to eavesdrop.

But the petrifications?

Draco was a bit obsessed with snakes, so he was fully aware of what was currently slithering its way around the school and petrifying people.

A basilisk.

Which… what.

How was it being controlled? Sure, it had only gone after mudbloods for now, but what happened when it inevitably petrified, or worse,  _ killed, _ a pureblood?

Not that he was worried about Hogwarts or the people in it. He was a Malfoy, why should he concern himself with their opinions? Much less their well-being.

Still... 

What if it led back to his father somehow? Then the Malfoy name would be ruined! He didn’t think it would be connected to his father, since he didn’t even know how his father is doing it, but he  _ knows _ it’s him who is responsible. 

And that’s not even touching on Harry Potter.

Draco isn’t sure  _ what _ is going on with him. He’s so… different than what was expected. He shot down Dumbledore near instantly, yet when anyone offers his friendship he just stares at them blankly until they eventually leave. It’s rather unnerving, Draco is ashamed to admit.

And Draco doesn’t even want to  _ think _ about what happened on the train as first years.

The only person exempt from this treatment is Luna Lovegood, strangely enough. Everyone has learned not to call her Loony after several  _ incidents _ occurred. Potter seems to protect her with a viciousness, despite his perpetually blank facade.

She, in turn, follows him around like a lost duckling, making inane comments about creatures only she sees. Potter either understands her somehow or is tolerating her, though for what purpose Draco can’t begin to guess. Perhaps an additional deterrent for conversations with others? She often disregards social norms, and will enter a conversation without warning. Nobody says anything, however, too afraid of Potter’s retaliation should something negative be said of or to her.

Draco is walking with his group of friends, occasionally chiming in when necessary, when they come across Potter and Lovegood. They are as they usually tend to be, Lovegood prattling on about something, while Potter stares blankly at something, usually her. Normally, Draco would call out to them or insult them, depending on the person or group. These two, however…

Potter turns to look at him and Lovegood also turns but continues talking, not even pausing in her speech.

The Slytherins, however, have frozen, waiting for him to do or say something. They’ve learned at this point that Potter is usually scarily accurate about whatever he talks about, even if he  _ should _ have no way of knowing the things he does.

“Draco Malfoy,” Potter says. Draco is shoved forward by his year mates and briefly turns to glare at them for throwing him to the wolves.

“Yes, Potter?” Draco says in the blankest tone he can. Two can play at being an emotionless doll.

“Perhaps your father should hear about this?” Potter says back blandly, as if his words haven’t just shaken Draco to his core.

He knows, Draco realizes. What should he do?! He doubts that he, or their group, can silence Potter, despite having a numbers advantage, and he has nothing to offer for his silence either, so what can he-

“Soon you’ll have to choose,” Potter continues in his emotionless voice, and yet his eyes, if it was anybody else, could be considered sad. His gaze sweeps over the rest of the Slytherins standing behind Draco. “All of you will.”

Lovegood also shifts her gaze over them, frozen as they are with this new information. Nobody standing in this hallway is an idiot. Everyone knows exactly what he refers to. She smiles at them, and the contrast between the two is staggering.

“The heliopaths will protect you if you allow them to,” she says. “Plus, we have Harry! Isn’t that right?” She continues in a slightly off tone. Potter turns to look at her in silence for a few seconds.

“Of course,” Potter says, in a tone that is also off. He turns and walks away. Lovegood smiles vacantly at them, and turns to follow.

Draco wants to call out to them, ask them for… something, help maybe? He just-

Instead, he leads his year down towards the Slytherin common room, thinking about what his future will look like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to post about Draco during 2nd year because of reasons, so here it is. Not sure about the ending, but I couldn't think after a bit so here we are.  
> Also I'll probably end up repeating people at some point if I do eventually make it through all seven years.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny found a diary among her school supplies and is suspicious. But she doesn't really have someone to talk to...
> 
> Tom Riddle watches and waits for the perfect opportunity.

Ginny was just  _ so tired. _

It all started at the beginning of the year, when a little black book appeared in her school supplies. She has her suspicions of where it came from, since she was watching herself and her things in Diagon Alley like a hawk. She has so few things already, she didn’t want to lose anything.

Regardless of where the book came from, it was blank, so she thought she could use it as a diary.

And then it started writing back.

She, rather understandably, freaked out. She wanted to throw it away immediately, as it appeared to be sentient, which was all kinds of bad, terrible,  _ really not good- _

But every time she tried to, she eventually picked it back up again. It was so alluring, and she tried to stay away, she really did, but what could the harm be in writing in it?

It’s just-

She wants to belong.

Her mother tries to push her one way, society tries to push her another, she just wants to  _ be. _ The twins are the only ones who truly understand, because they are different too. Bill and Charlie maybe could, but they’re away so often…

And the diary, Tom, seems so nice and understanding…

Finally.

Tom has finally absorbed enough of the girl to take over her consciousness for a brief time. He needs more information, as distasteful as it is to get it from a 11 year old girl, but he must know.

What happened to him? Why is everything so similar?

Did he fail?

No, he refuses to believe it. Despite being only 16 when this horcrux was made, he knows he is the greatest wizard of all time. He must have succeeded.

_ He must. _

There is a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. And he will figure it out, soon enough.

But first…

Ginny runs back to her room in a panic. She must be dreaming, or hallucinating, or-

Something,  _ anything. _

She most certainly did not have blood on her fingers, and feathers in her hair.

The roosters on the castle grounds were absolutely not dead.

There was most definitely  _ not a message scrawled in blood near the girls bathroom on the second floor. _

It couldn’t be her doing these things, she would remember it! Sure she’s been losing sleep lately, and sometimes (only rarely, you understand) she spaces out and loses time in her room, but that’s not-

Ah! Tom will know what to do. He knows so much, after all.

Things are progressing smoothly. The basilisk has been set free and is now roaming the halls. Soon, it will start its duty, and purge those worthless mudbloods from the school. Why they are still allowed to attend, Tom doesn’t understand, he should have-

Bah. No matter. Soon, they will all be dead anyway.

Besides, he has other things to deal with.

Like, who is Harry Potter?

Ginny absolutely, positively,  _ must _ get rid of the diary.

It’s addictive somehow, and she knows for sure now that it is bad.

She also knows it’s her that did those things.

She wants to cry. She never meant for any of this to happen! And now, there are people in the hospital wing, petrified! If she’s right about what, exactly, is roaming the halls, then they could have died! Tom is the cause of all this, and she will have nothing more to do with him. She swears it.

A day later the diary is on her bed once more, black cover gleaming in the afternoon sun.

Tom smirks to himself. His plans are almost complete. The girl is almost dead, and he is nearly revived. His enemy, Harry Potter, will soon swoop in like the foolish hero he is, just like he apparently did a year ago. Sure, it was all rumors, but rumors often have some truth in them. How the boy avoided Gryffindor, Tom will never know. He will kill the boy and move on. It will prove to everyone that he cannot be stopped, as his supposed defeater has been defeated.

Tom perks up in the shadows he currently stands in when he hears footsteps. Finally, the boy is here!

Out of the entranceway comes a boy with black hair and green eyes. His gaze is focused on the girl, but he is walking slowly, almost leisurely towards her. Despite himself, Tom is unnerved. This boy is supposed to be a paragon of righteousness, so why isn’t he hurrying towards the apparently injured and unmoving girl?

Finally, the boy stops just before the girl and looks down at her, before slowly lifting his gaze to stare right at Tom.

Tom stiffens, before composing himself and stepping out of the shadows. He will be fine. The boy is a mere second year, and he hasn’t even drawn his wand yet. Has the boy no sense at all? Foolish Gryffindors.

He waits for the questions, for the concern over the state of the girl, the accusations of the petrifications, but nothing comes. The boy continues to just…  _ stare _ at him.

Finally, Tom asks, somewhat impatiently, “Well? Are you going to just stand there?”

The boy continues to stare.

Tom is about to crucio the boy and leave a broken mess on the floor when the boy finally does something.

He blinks.

Tom feels his eye twitch.

“Crucio!”

Tom watches the spell move towards his target with disgust, only for his eyes to widen when the spell rebounds off the boy.

Then all he knows is  _ pain. _

What rational mind he has left is panicking because the  _ pain isn’t stopping _ . In fact, it’s getting even worse, which he didn’t know was even possible.

Dimly, he hears, “In the name of Myrtle Warren, I banish this piece of your soul from the land of the living.”

He starts at that, because that  _ name _ it’s-

And then hands touch him and he’s looking into the ghostly visage of the first person he ever killed, and he’s still feeling so much  _ pain- _

And then it’s all gone.

And so is Tom.

Ginny wakes up in the Chamber of Secrets with a black book next to her and Harry Potter staring at her with his dead green eyes. She was very seriously warned by the twins to not piss him off in any way, and to avoid his attention entirely if possible. She was frightened, because the twins had never been so serious before, and they’re warning her off of Harry Potter, of all people?

And then she’s panicking, because she’s in the  _ Chamber, _ with the  _ diary, _ and everyone is in danger because of her, and-

“He’s gone.”

She flinches, and turns to look at Harry with wide eyes. How could he know about-

“You shouldn't be afraid to be yourself.”

She gapes at him like an idiot until he stands and offers her a hand to pull her to her feet.

She takes it.

Later, she is sitting at the Ravenclaw table amidst whispers from the rest of the student body. She doesn’t care though, because she and Harry are listening to Luna talk avidly about something only she sees, while Neville is doing something with Herbology, and Ginny-

Well, she thinks she found somewhere to belong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ginny.  
> But hey, we're building the group back up right? And in mostly reverse order! (this was actually unintentional)  
> Not gonna lie, kinda forgot about Neville for a bit there, but he will be included in the future!  
> And yes, this does mean Hermione and Ron will get a chapter and they will not be bashed. At least not a lot, or it will be more them reflecting on their flaws. The twins will get a chapter as well, but after Hermione and Ron.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione can't move. But she must.  
> She has to tell them!  
> Then why is she so afraid?

Hermione bundles up her supplies and grabs a few books off the table to return to the shelves, while trying to convince herself that she isn’t shaking. Her mind is shooting off in all directions, blaming herself for thinking she could solve the mystery of the petrifications, self-recriminations about how worthless and  _ pathetic _ she is, and-

I mean really, what did she think would happen? She did the research, she knew what the beast roaming the halls was. She was so confident that she could stop this, stop  _ everything. _

_ She’s so stupid. _

Looks like those kids in primary school were right, and how it _burns_ to say such a thing. She’s a know-it-all, _except when_ _she isn’t._ Then she’s just a _stupid_ little girl who thinks she knows everything.

And despite her faults in this latest endeavor, she hates that she isn’t surprised.

She  _ almost died, _ and it wasn’t even the first time, since the troll came first.

And she was so  _ proud _ of herself for getting out of that alive, aside from her shame of crying the afternoon away in that bathroom the reason she was in that situation.

Despite the immeasurable danger she was in when the troll came into the bathroom, she kept her head and was able to escape without the troll even noticing her.

She felt invincible, after that.

Stupid.

So when the mystery began this year, she was so very confident in her ability to not only solve it, but stop it as well.

It was only because she figured out what the creature was that she didn’t die.

But she was still  _ so close. _

If she hadn’t had that mirror on her…

And then she was in the hospital wing for months, petrified, and it was one of the worst things she had ever experienced. She knew of night terrors and sleep paralysis, but she’d never known what it was like, nor did she know anyone who did.

But as lay there, she couldn’t help but think that the giant snake was coming to finish her off, with her unable to do anything. It was terrifying, it was maddening, it was…

But then.

She couldn’t see it herself, but Madam Pomfrey came in one morning and exclaimed over something on her bedside table. She didn’t have any friends, really, so there were no get well cards or anything of the sort.

Not for her. Never for her.

But somebody  _ did _ leave something.

And when Madam Pomfrey lifted it into her view so she could see it, her mind drew to an abrupt halt.

For there, in a glass vase, was a flower with a gold ribbon tied to it.

But that was-

Were she able to, she would have started crying.

It reminded her of her Nana.

Ipomoea alba. The moonflower. With a gold ribbon. Nana always said it reminded her of Hermione.

Then Nana got sick, and Hermione gave her all the moonflowers she could find, bound with a gold ribbon. It didn’t save her, but Nana was always smiling those last few days. Because of her.

She tries to remember, tries to draw strength from the flower, her memories, tries not to  _ drown _ in self doubt and  _ failure. _

She’s about to start crying, about to start  _ screaming, _ just to prove she  _ can _ still, and-

She bumps into a boy

She knew his name, how could she not.

This was Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived. He was different, a bit odd, she thought. But then, did she really have room to judge, anymore?

Death touches them all a bit differently.

She’s not sure whether she’s about to laugh hysterically or lunge at him, then he opens his mouth and she hears,

“She wanted to return the favor.”

And then she’s swaying a bit, and maybe about to crash into the wall,  _ because _ -

She closes her eyes and focuses on her Nana. How her long white hair always swayed in the wind, how she always had a kind word for her, how she  _ loved her. _

She can almost feel her hand brush her hair, just like when she was a child.

Hermione opens her eyes.

“Thank you,” she says, and means it.

Harry merely looks at her, and then offers her a hand.

She looks at him surprised, and she swears she can hear her Nana again, reminding her,

“May you always walk in the light of the sun.”

Hermione murmurs, unconsciously, “And may the moonbeams always illuminate the path.”

She takes Harry’s hand, smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel this one needs a bit of explanation.  
> Troll still happened, though Harry and Ron didn't come to the rescue since Harry was busy being creepy, and Ron wasn't the one who made her cry in the first place, so he didn't know where she was either (Who did is mostly irrelevant, just that it isn't Ron). Thus, Hermione saved herself.  
> She still tried to solve the mystery of the basilisk, and does, like in canon, and is petrified immediately afterwards. I'm not sure how/why canon Hermione just brushes off her two near death experiences? The troll was super violent, and she very easily could have been seriously injured or killed, while the Basilisk is self-explanatory. If she didn't have a mirror on her in that library, she likely would have died. Then, she basically experiences sleep paralysis for months, while she also knows that there is a basilisk roaming the halls and she is defenseless? Tell me that does not result in a very terrible state of mind.  
> This is not me trying to bash on Hermione, I just feel like she would have been a bit overconfident going into things because of how things have played out so far in this changed version of canon.  
> Her Nana is an original character that I just made up, since we have little info on canon Hermione's family.  
> And Harry with his creepy ghost powers needs somebody to talk to.


End file.
